


Fear and Loathing

by Dorksidefiker



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are few beings in the universe who hate Pitch Black more than Mother Nature.  Unfortunately, when she lets that anger out things tend to explode, so it's in the Guardians' best interest to run interference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Return of the attack of the Kink Meme!
> 
>  
> 
> [Also now with a Soundtrack!](http://grooveshark.com/#!/playlist/Fear+And+Loathing/84402313)

" _I know you,_ " the shadows hissed.

For a moment, Seraphina's entire world contracted into a tiny pinpoint. Hateful gold eyes stared out at her from shadows too deep to be natural, sussuration coming from all around her. Too many shadows beneath the trees, too many places for that thing to hide.

Pitch Black moved too lightly in the world, a just one more shadow in the moonlight.

"You think you know me."

_No fear, Seraphina. It's just a shadow, shadows can't hurt you._

That was a lie, but for the moment it was a useful one. The nightmares moved restlessly, held back by their master's... curiosity, perhaps? Did some distant, stolen memory lurk in that thing's head, whispering about a sunlit garden and a little girl who loved nothing so much as her Daddy?

A face emerged from the darkness, followed by a long, sinuous body.

Seraphina longed to take a knife and carve that face off and reveal the rot beneath. The idea of making the thing bleed filled her ever so briefly with joy; that thing had no right to wear that face, with that expression of longing. It had no right to pretend to be anything but what it was, and she wasn't fooled by a stolen face and mannerisms. Pitch reached for her with long fingers, so close (too close!) he could could almost touch her.

Vines lashed out from the ground, thick thorns digging into Pitch's flesh as he was whipped suddenly into the air and flung far over the trees. Dark blood glistened in the moonlight as the vines returned to their mistress, writhing like so many snakes. Seraphina's lips pulled back in a snarl as the Nightmares circled. "Come on then," she growled, flexing her fingers. "I can't kill your master, but I can kill you!"

Lightning flashed and storm clouds rose, blocking out the light of the moon as the Nightmares watched her with the same gold eyes as their master. But they listened to the fear of all wild things when confronted with a large, angry predator.

Lightning scorched the earth again, striking through the largest of the Nightmares and scattering the rest. Seraphina's anger was not yet sated even as the Nightmare collapsed into a pile of blackened sand and blew away with the wind, and she called on the winds to carry her away, take her somewhere safe and far. She left behind a raging storm and whispering shadows.

" _I **know** you..._ "

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They had reached The Agreement long ago.

Mother Nature would always be welcome in Bunnymund's Warren (because there really wasn't anything he could do to stop her from coming in if she wanted to), and Mother Nature would wait outside until Bunnymund actually let her in (because not even the most powerful nature spirit could easily get rid of the stench of rotting eggs).

Bunnymund was thinking wistfully of the days when he could get away with rotten eggs as he opened up the Warren entrance. It was too soon after Easter for him to be fit for any kind of company; he was still wound up from the holiday itself, and he thought longingly of the nest he'd dragged himself from as he stepped out into the twilight.

Mother Nature was perched on a rock, letting a red-bellied black snake wrap itself around her arm. It was a lovely creature for something that considered frogs a fine meal, shining black scales making a sharp contrast against the pale skin of Mother Nature's hand. "That _thing_ is back," she announced without preamble, letting her little reptilian friend slither free. It wasn't at home in this part of the Outback, but no doubt a helpful gust of wind would see it safely back to Brisbane before long.

Bunnymund didn't need ask what she meant by 'That Thing'. In the long years of their acquaintance, there was only one creature she'd ever spoken of with so much disgust. He waved her into the Warren and shut it up again. There were no dark shadows to plague either of them. "Tell me you didn't drop a mountain on him again."

"There weren't any convenient, but I might have stirred up a bit of a storm."

"When you say 'a bit'-"

"The storm was going to hit there anyway," Mother Nature insisted, which just made Bunnymund groan softly as he gathered a few of his googies and sent them off to the other Guardians. Pitch Black's return, especially after such a short time, was too important not to warn them about. "It's just going to be bigger now... and last longer. Maybe a mudslide or two."

"Strewth!"

"He - _it said it knew me, Aster._ "

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that beneath all the power and the casual disregard for life except on the grandest scale, Mother Nature was still a thinking, feeling woman who was still dealing with several lifetimes worth of pain. Bunnymund took great pains to remember, but sometimes even he was fooled for a little while. He shouldn't have been; he'd spent more than enough time seeking comfort from her, on the days when he couldn't escape the memory of how his people had died and the Warren felt too empty.

It was nearly impossible for Bunnymund to rest his chin on top of Mother Nature's -- _Seraphina's_ \-- head without her co-operation, since she was nearly as tall as he was. Tonight, it seemed, she wasn't inclined to fight. Instead, she clung to him as tightly as he'd clung to her in nights past.

A part of Bunnymund worried. He'd have been an idiot not to. The last time Seraphina had gone up against Pitch with any real force, people had died horribly, caught in the crossfire between two unstoppable forces. She hadn't much cared. She was Mother Nature, and her thoughts were always on the bigger picture, where a few thousand human lives meant very little. Bunnymund's first duty was to the children, and something would have to be done before they had another Pompeii on their hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Ultimately, exhaustion had won out. There was only so long a body could keep going, once adrenaline drained away, even for immortal forces of nature such as the Easter Bunny and Mother Nature. They ended up in Bunnymund's nest of sweet grass, too drained to do anything but sleep while Bunnymund waited for his compatriots to arrive. The summons he'd sent out hadn't been urgent, and his sentinels would wake him when the others started to arrive.

But there was something important that he hadn't factored in to his calculations.

Sophie.

Sophie had unlimited access to Bunnymund's Warren, complete with a key that would let her open a way in anywhere she was, any time she wanted. In four years, never once had Sophie abused that privilege. She considered the obvious trust Bunnymund showed her as the highest honor she could be given... and of course, she was always happy to help any of the Guardians with anything they might ever need.

Like getting Jack Frost to Bunnymund's Warren faster than he could fly himself there.

The cold started to rouse Bunnymund from slumber before the giggling did, his body protesting the whole while that he should just curl up around Seraphina and remain where he was until the annoyance went away. It was a tempting; Seraphina's head was resting on his chest, and she was warm and smelled like magnolias. But the cold and the giggles persisted, intruding with rude reality. He needed to get up, if only so he could drown Jack in the dye river.

"Aster," Seraphina murmured sleepily into his fur, "is there someone laughing at us?"

"Hn."

"Are they going to go away?"

"Nn." Bunnymund let his chin graze Seraphina's hair, wishing there was something he could throw at Jack as the winter spirit begged Sophie to let him use the camera function on her phone.

"I could hit him with a lightning bolt."

He considered the offer briefly, then discarded it. "Probably shouldn't."

"Just a tiny one."

"You might set something on fire."

"... that is generally the idea, Aster."

"Something I actually _like_." With great reluctance, Bunnymund squirmed out from beneath Seraphina to deal with his guests. She immediately burrowed into the nest, uncaring of the grass and straw getting caught in her hair. He gave the nest one last longing look before grabbing one of the blankets that had been scattered about and draping it over his guest. Then he rounded on Jack, who had failed to convince Sophie that this was one of those moments that needed to be captured for posterity.

"Outoutoutout _outoutout_ -" he hissed, herding Jack and Sophie away from his nest and to the more open areas of the Warren.

"Aw, but we didn't get to meet your friend~" Jack whined, bouncing along like one of North's demented elves. Sophie had a quiet, serious look that Bunnymund knew meant she had a thousand questions and was just waiting for the chance to ask them.

"Oh, believe me mate," Bunnymund muttered ominously, "you'll get your chance."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Honestly, Bunnymund had never been so glad to see North in his life. Great pain in the ass he might be, but the moment he hit the Warren he conscripted Jack into helping him find a table and enough chairs for everyone. Of course, that meant he was left alone with Sophie, who was _still_ giving him that look. He crouched so they were nearly on eye level, and he waited.

"She's pretty." Sophie grinned. "Not as pretty as Tooth," she added, clearly remembering her ill fated attempts to play matchmaker between Toothiana and himself over the last couple of years, "but still very pretty."

Well, off to a good start. "Yeah, Seraphina's a lovely woman."

Whatever Sophie had been about to say next died as she paused, clearly rolling the name around in her mind to see if she liked it. A part of Bunnymund missed the child Sophie had been four years ago, bright and loud and utterly unable to follow a train of thought for more than two minutes. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Ah..."

Someday, he was going to find a way to thank Tooth properly for her timely arrival, providing him with an excellent excuse not to answer a question he didn't really have an answer to at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Not really seeing the problem here..." Jack admitted, glancing around the table at the circle of serious faces. Sophie was busying herself co-ordination the eggs in a complicated bit of synchronized swimming, close enough to be watched, but far enough away not to overhear. "We kicked Pitch's boney butt before, we can do it again if he keeps spooking your _girlfriend_."

Of the four other Guardians, Bunnymund and Sandy were the least amused by Jack's line of reasoning. "Y' just don't get it," Bunnymund sighed wearily. "Pitch has been giving Mother Nature a wide berth for nearly two thousand years, so whatever's changed that made him seek her out must be big."

"Is most troubling news," North agreed, his voice a soft rumble. "You think this is not just coincidence?"

"I think I'm not inclined to take chances. I still remember the last time they went at it."

Jack slumped in his chair, looking much put upon as he tapped his staff against his leg. "Are you really gonna make me _ask_?"

"Before my time," Tooth admitted, "and North's."

On the table, a scene began to play out with dream sand. A cartoonish Pitch and Mother Nature hovering over a mountain, which suddenly exploded under the Nightmare King, covering him in dreamsand-lava. Jack laughed, leaning closer for a better look. "And this was a bad thing _how_? I kinda like the idea of throwing a volcano at Pitch."

"This particular volcano," Bunnymund drawled as the dreamsands shifted, showing a town being flooded with lava as tiny figures tried to flee, "was Vesuvius."

That knocked the laughter right out of Jack, and he sat back in his chair, face filled with a quiet horror. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Because above all else, I hate that thing."

Mother Nature emerged from one of the side tunnels, tall and elegant and for a moment utterly inhuman. She held a serving tray in her hands, and the handles creaked ominously as her knuckles went white. "Pitch Black is a monster, undeserving of any kindness or mercy. I do not hunt him down, but I will not tolerate his presence." She approached the table, laying the tray down carefully as she addressed Bunnymund. "I thought your guests might care for some refreshments."


	3. Chapter 3

Cups of hot chocolate sat cooling in front of the Guardians while options and opinions were bandied about. Seraphina stood silent behind Bunnymund's chair, watching and listening with interest. She didn't much care for the Guardians or their master save for Bunnymund; she had long found their unwavering certainty in their righteousness grating at the best of times. She'd seen many righteous men in her life, and few of them had come to a good end. Even Bunnymund was only tolerable for relatively short periods, and then only so long as they avoided certain topics.

But... something had changed. They listened to each other, and while there was still arguing, there didn't seem to be any pressing need for one of them to be _right_.

She found herself watching Jack Frost with growing interest, paying the actual discussion all the attention she felt it deserved.

_I was foolish to ignore this child,_ Seraphina thought, cursing her own pride for a moment. She had felt the ripples in the world when the Man in the Moon created him, and allowed the North Wind to tend him, but beyond that she had all but ignored the winter spirit. The mark of the Man in the Moon was bright upon him, and Seraphina had sworn herself to neutrality long before. Her duty was to the balance of the world, something not even the Man in the Moon paid much attention to.

But Jack Frost was more than just a Guardian. He was an agent of change, whether he knew it or not.

She _still_ wanted to hit the cheeky little brat with a lightning bolt, but that didn't mean she didn't appreciate the boy for what he was and what he could do.

"I dunno," Jack drawled, propping his feet up on the table after North suggested they put a guard on Seraphina, "I think she's pretty comfy right here in the Warren."

Seraphina leaned close to Bunnymund's ear and whispered, "Just a _little_ one."

Bunnymund's nose twitched and let out a noise that she knew was a muffled laugh. "That 'little storm' you stirred up was big enough that Sophie heard about it on the news," he murmured back.

"Tch." She drew back, finally addressing the Guardians for the first time since her arrival. "I can't hide myself away any more than one of you could... except Jack, of course. My duties demand I walk the world." Seraphina plucked a bit of grass still clinging to her skirt free and flicked it away. She could feel the pressure growing, the call of the storm and the rivers and the wild places to attend to them. Those things that called her Mistress tended to the duty as best they could, but some things needed her special touch, and it was hard to manage things at a distance away from her personal domain. "And when I am out in the world, there is no place Pitch Black cannot follow if he wants." A brief thrill of terror went through her at the thought. In truth, she knew she wasn't even safe in the Warren if Pitch was determined enough.

She watched tension fill Bunnymund's shoulders, and the flashes of horror across the faces of the others.

"We need to find out what Pitch is up to and stop him," Bunnymund insisted. "Hiding, bodyguards... none of that deals with the root of the problem. He shouldn't even be _active_ so soon, but here he is! I won't stand by and let him-" He went still, then stood up suddenly. "Something's gotten into the Warren!" he hissed even as his sentinels sent up the cry, yanking his boomerang free from the bandolier.

There was a terrible kind of beauty as the others joined him, North with his swords and the Sandman pulling his sand together, ready to become a whole host of weapons. Toothiana held nothing in her hands, but she was swift and far stronger than she appeared, and the air around Jack Frost chilled, the sudden change making the cups crack.

A tug at Seraphina's skirt kept her from joining them. Sophie looked up at her through a tangle of blonde hair, hands fisted in the soft green fabric. "Aster would want you well protected, I think," she sighed, placing herself between the breached part of the Warren and the girl. The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet as the vines grew around them, thick and thorny. She could have just collapsed the Warren on the intruder, but she doubted Bunnymund would much care to see great swaths of his home destroyed.

The intruder flew on silent wings, dodging Bunnymund's boomerang and staying too high for North and his swords, narrowly avoiding Jack's ice, only to be herded by Toothiana right into a cage of dream sand. The bearded vulture made no noise even as he beat his wings against the cage. Seraphina tore through her own hedge of thorns with a cry of "Stop! Let him out!"

"Friend of yours?" North rumbled as the Sandman dissolved the sand cage. The vulture flew to Seraphina, talons wrapping around her raised forearm. The sleeve tore, but her skin remained unbroken as the bird looked around with golden, red rimmed eyes.

"Ossifrage is one of the guardians of my home," Seraphina admitted, puzzled, as she met the bird's eyes. "What brings you here, my love? Show me..."

_Shadows moving where no shadow should, across sunlit streams and broken stones. Home, living shadows in the **home**! The fierce beasts that run on four legs attacked by horses with no good marrow, that fell into sand rather than die and be feasted on as they should! And the man walks paths that belong only to the lady and her beasts, breaks open doors untouched for centuries-_

Seraphina tore her mind from the vulture's as the ground beneath her feet trembled with her rage.

" _He's in my home!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, [the](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bearded_Vulture) [Bearded Vulture](https://www.google.com/search?q=carrion+eating+birds&hl=en&safe=off&tbo=d&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=NVETUaPkD6GyiQLTxYCoCA&sqi=2&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAA&biw=1366&bih=632#hl=en&safe=off&tbo=d&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=bearded+vulture&oq=bearded+vulture&gs_l=img.3..0l2j0i5j0i24l7.684.89590.5.89750.16.13.0.2.2.0.868.1981.6j5j6-1.12.0...0.0...1c.1.2.img.rpCdwdKMJvk&fp=1&biw=1366&bih=632&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.r_qf.&cad=b&sei=tZQTUdKUBsvwiQLm24DoDw)


	4. Chapter 4

Bunnymund knew Seraphina was shaken by whatever it was that bloody vulture had shown her; otherwise, he'd have never been able to get her into North's sleigh. Bunnymund himself was shaken up enough that climbing into that flying deathtrap seemed like a good idea, and hadn't even noticed that Sophie had joined them until they were well underway. If he'd been thinking, he'd had had Jack see Sophie safely home, but it was too late now. They were in the middle of the damn Pacific, with Seraphina sitting between North and Sandy, muttering directions.

In theory, Bunnymund had the same right to visit Seraphina's sanctuary as she did his Warren, but he had never availed himself on her hospitality. When he wanted to see her, he'd go looking for the biggest storm, and when she wanted to see him, she'd just turn up. They didn't see each other often, and it suited them both just fine.

In fact, this was the longest they'd been in each other's company in over four decades.

Blizzard of '68. Seraphina had turned up after Frost had had his fun, fuming about the headache he'd caused her (no matter how well crafted the blizzard had been). They'd retired to the Warren and ended up staying there for the two days it took the snow to melt. She'd had to come back a week later for the rest of her clothes, and there was still an unfinished painting that wouldn't be seeing the light of day so long as children kept popping in at the Warren.

Bunnymund shook himself abruptly. Now wasn't the time for fond reminiscences -- Seraphina looked mad enough to start a proper batch of earthquakes at any moment. Even with Sandy beside her and ready to hit her with dreamsand, she was a danger to everyone around her until her anger cooled. Worse than that, she was _scared_ , even if Bunnymund was the only person who realized it, and like any scared animal, her reaction was to bite the face off the thing that frightened her.

For all their sakes, he hoped Pitch was long gone by the time they got there.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mother Nature made her home on a tiny island that was on no map, surrounded by an ever churning column of storm clouds. It had been an active volcano once, and no doubt could be again with just the right push, but for now it was a lonely peak that sat in the eye of a storm, covered with a multitude of growing things. The waters were teeming with the most dangerous creatures of the deep and sharp coral reefs to take on anything that dared the storm, and the island itself was crawling with beasts great and small that would defend their home to the death. Only her birds and her butterflies could pass easily through her defenses; she had to open a hole to let North's sleigh get through safely.

The part of her not seething rage enjoyed the quiet gasps of awe. She'd worked long and hard crafting her sanctuary, and was quiet pleased with the result. Streams ran down the sides of the volcano, forming waterfalls and pools and babbling brooks before joining the ocean, and _everywhere_ were growing things.

The rarest of the plants grew in and around the villa that clung to the eastern face of the volcano like ivy. Truthfully, Seraphina knew that those plants most dear to her wouldn't have been able to survive anywhere else on the island.

Ossifrage launched himself from his perch on the back of the sleigh, circling down to join his kin as they feasted on the beach. North followed without having to be told, guiding his reindeer down to the flock of vultures. She squirmed past the Sandman and jumped from the sleigh, hitting the wet sand feet first. She could _feel_ the taint of nightmare sand in on her sanctuary as the waves washed up to lap at her ankles, tugging the hem of her skirt. Her butterflies converged, frightened and wary and waiting for orders.

_Duty above all else,_ her father whispered to her from across the centuries. _Her_ duty was to the world, and in her sanctuary she could feel it's needs most keenly.

A whisper, a breath, a light touch to delicate wings and the butterflies were off, shifting the weather in ways only she could detect, keeping the wheel of the seasons turning properly.

Seraphina's sanctuary had been violated, but the moment she'd set foot on the beach, she'd known Pitch Black was already gone.

Toothiana's horrified little "Oh!" only barely registered. One of the hyenas Seraphina had favored as protectors of her home lay dead in the sand, skull caved in by a Nightmare's hoof. The scavangers were already making a meal out of her, stripping away the flesh and cracking bones to feast on the marrow within. Little crabs had climbed up the beach to join the vultures and bugs; soon there would be nothing left but shards of bone, and those would wash away with the tides.

The same process was being repeated all over the island. Her guards had fought the Nightmares that had dared intrude on their territory, and no few had been lost.

When she saw Pitch Black again, she was going to take each death out of his hide.

Without really thinking about it, Seraphina reached out and grabbed Sophie's wrist before the girl could fling the stone she'd picked up at the vultures. " _Don't._ "

"But they're eating him!"

"It's what they _do_." Seraphina's tone was not unkind. The child was young, and she'd lived a life full of wonder and joy, in a place where meat came already butchered and wrapped in plastic. "I would rather see her properly disposed of than left out to rot."

She waited until Sophie let go of the rock, then released her wrist. Toothiana immediately took charge of the girl, ushering her over to North. They were watching her warily, all but the Sandman, who had disappeared. A quick glance upward revealed him to be floating above like a golden balloon, a ball of dream sand ready to be dropped on her head. "He's gone," Seraphina announced, trudging up the beach. The sandy remains of the Nightmares scattered across her island made her skin crawl, demanding that _something_ be done. The foulness would stick about for years no matter what she did -- short of sinking the island -- but she _could_ wash the worst of it away.

"Whatever it is he wanted, it was up in the villa. This way."

_My home, he violated my **home**!_

Perhaps it would have been polite to warn them _before_ the rain started, but at her age, Seraphina had learned to take her jollies where she could find them.


	5. Chapter 5

From a distance, the villa seemed a nearly palatial building, a series of interconnected buildings that rose up the terraced side of the volcano. It wasn't until a person got closer that they could see what it really was: a decaying monument to a long dead civilization. Huge parts of the roof had collapsed under the weight of the trees and plants that grew over everything, and one of the streams ran right through the heart of it, bringing water to the alien plants that took root within. Ancient murals were mostly covered over by vines, and the long roots of the trees that grew on the remains of the roof dipped down into the earth, breaking through the once beautifully tiled floors and giving special shelter to the most delicate blossoms as they made their own climb skyward on pale vines.

Everything that grew there was a relic of a Golden Age, like the villa, and like Seraphina herself.

Once upon a time, it had been her home. She had danced in the garden with her father, those rare times he was able to come. She had celebrated her birthdays there, amidst the servants and the few children she'd had much contact with. She had spread her mother's ashes in the garden, her father's hand tight on her shoulder as she had done so.

It had been from the villa that she had fled when word of the Nightmare King's coming reached her, and it had been to the villa that she returned when she came into her Power, in search of survivors.

All she found were the butterflies and the gardens. Pitch Black had left nothing else alive.

Bringing the villa with her had been her first real act of Power. She'd entertained vague plans of finding some place where she might settle after she ripped Pitch's head from his shoulders, and it would not to to _not_ have a place to display such a trophy.

This world had come as something of a shock to her; she's known the moment she took the Power that it came with a steep price, but she hadn't realized it would mean being bound to this one world, keeping the delicate balance that had been destroyed throughout the rest of the universe. Still, it was a price she payed gladly. She loved this world, and all it's creatures, and the few beings like her who she had chosen to share her life with, and if she had any regrets, it was only that she hadn't been able to catch up with Pitch Black before he too had gotten tied up in the balance of the world.

Seraphina didn't believe in coincidences; she knew it was part of the Constellations greater schemes -- at least, what remained of them -- but even after all this time, she didn't know _what_ they were planning.

Generally, she didn't much _care_ , but...

But Pitch Black had broken into her home, violated her sanctuary. She could feel the traces of the monster as she stood in what had once been the great hall, letting the rain fall on her as she stood in the middle of the stream. The Guardians took shelter beneath the remains of the roof, Sophie clinging to Bunnymund. The Pooka was studying one of the orchids clinging to the tree roots; the joy of discovery was _almost_ making him forget that he was annoyed with her about the rain.

The orchids glowed softly in the semi-dark of the rain shower.

"I haven't seen these since I was a kit..." he whispered to North. Seraphina payed it little attention; she was tracing the taint of Pitch's path through her home.

_There._

She left them behind, racing through parts of the villa that had been shut away for centuries. Here, the roof remained whole, guarding ancient treasures. She didn't know half of what was in there anymore; none of it was any use to her, and she kept it because she couldn't be bothered to be rid of it. But there was _one_ room that she knew every relic, every statue, every painting. And that was the room Pitch Black had unerringly found his way to, smashing through each locked door until he found it.

Each room lit up as she passed. If she'd been in any other mood, she might have marveled at the amazing lasting power of Imperial technology.

She reached the last room and stopped in the doorway, the lights rising with her proximity, revealing things she _wished_ she could let go of.

"Why do you have a statue of Pitch Black?"

Damn Jack Frost. Damn him to the deepest abyss, where Fearlings would eat his toes and lick his eyeballs and use his stomach as a trampoline!

The island rumbled, shaking dust loose from the ceiling as Seraphina turned. Jack Frost, impudent whelp, was right behind her, eyes locked on the statue that dominated the room. She could hear the other Guardians calling for him, following the path of Pitch's destruction.

"That," Seraphina said with a kind of calm that surprised herself, "is not Pitch Black. _That_ is General Kozmotis Pitchiner, and he was a hero." She found herself looming over the winter spirit -- not a difficult task, given her height. The winds (who did so love a dramatic moment) pulled at her hair and her dress, driving the rain clinging to them both away. Her hair was going to be a great mess after this, but she wasn't really inclined to care. "The Fearlings killed him, hollowed him out, and have been wearing his skin for the last fifty thousand years." She leaned down so she was nose to nose with Jack, enjoying the way his bright blue eyes widened. "I suggest you not confuse the two ever again."

Seraphina straightened, watching Jack swallow hard. To his credit, he composed himself quickly, and breezed right past her into the room. He perched lightly on the head of the bronze horse, looking at the face of a dead man. "Okay, okay, jeez. Why do you have a statue of 'Kozmotis Pitchiner' in your house?" He looked around, holding his staff across his thighs and he stayed crouched on the statue. "And pictures. Lots... and lots... of pictures." He leaped down, landing as gracefully as a dancer. "Y'know, this is actually kinda creepy."

Seraphina chose to ignore him, looking instead for what had been disturbed. Footprints in the dust lead her to one of the stacks; family portraits. There had been a new one every year, first of her mother and father, then of the three of them, then finally just Seraphina and her father.

The last portrait was missing.

The volcano rumbled.


	6. Chapter 6

"Go home."

An arctic chill carried the words through the villa, leading the Guardians back to the great hall. The rain turned to gentle snow, and the stream froze over. Jack Frost she had to drag along by the hood of his sweatshirt, but the others went without needing more coaxing.

Impertinent, annoying little gadfly.

Bunnymund was carrying Sophie, murmuring to her about the different plants, where they had come from, and what they could do. Anything to keep the child from realizing just what kind of danger she was in. The ground continued to tremble, sending little stones rattling about.

Sophie, being considerably brighter than the annoying winter spirit, kept her eyes on Seraphina. An unspoken question lingered in the air.

_Would you really hurt them just because you're angry at someone else?_

"You shoulda seen it!" Jack called out, twisting free of Seraphina's grip. "She's got this creepy _shrine_ -" A lightning bolt arced down, blasting a tree next to Jack, knocking him off his feet. He got to his feet as lightly as a cat, shaking off bits of charred wood as he held his staff in front of himself defensively.

"They're just trying to help!" Sophie snapped, burying her face in Bunnymund's fur. "You don't have to be so so mean! You're acting like a child!"

"Hush, love," Bunnymund murmured, stroking her hair gently. He closed his eyes for a moment before turning a pleading look on Seraphina. _She doesn't mean it, she doesn't understand, **if I think you're going to hurt her, I WILL fight you**._

The others formed a protective ring around Sophie and Bunnymund. Mother Nature was tempestuous and dangerous, and no friend to the Guardians.

The ground stopped shaking, and the snow slowly came to a stop. The only movement was Toothiana darting back and forth; she'd managed to produce a pair of swords without Seraphina even noticing... and the Sandman had disappeared again.

In the long run, Seraphina was confidant in her ability to take the Guardians in a fight. She could turn the very planet against them if need be. But in the short run, with them so close and the Sandman no doubt waiting to hit her with a face full of dream sand... no. This was not the time, this was not the place, and these were not the people.

"I will settle with Pitch Black myself. _Go home._ "

"Is too late for that." North's tone wasn't without sympathy, but it was firm.

_Of course._ No matter what, she presented an immediate threat to their precious children. That was why Bunnymund had gathered the others to him in the first place. Any other time, she would have listed his sense of duty as one of Bunnymund's finer traits; now it was going to be a hindrance.

"We've beaten Pitch before," Toothiana reminded her, " _without_ you."

There was that Guardian arrogance again.

"That was your fight. This one is mine."

_He took the picture, he knows who I was, that thing is defiling every last good memory, and he will try to use Father against me!_

"If Pitch Black is out there, it's everyone's fight," Jack insisted. "Maybe you'd see that if you'd stop letting your big ego get in the way."

"Not. Helping." Bunnymund hissed. "Frostbite's _right_ ," he added. "You trusted us enough to come to us already. Don't see how any of that's changed."

"I trust _you_ -"

The silence was sudden and deafening.

Then, almost as one, Jack and Sophie started to giggle. North looked at some distant point over Seraphina's shoulder, and something from like a titter came briefly from Toothiana. Seraphina stood up straight, nails digging into her palms.

"So how about you trust me now," Bunnymund managed to say despite glaring holes into the back of Jack Frost's head, "and let me help you?"


	7. Chapter 7

"I think perhaps is best if we leave them alone now," North insisted softly. He took advantage of his great bulk to herd the others before him, deftly relieving Bunnymund of Sophie as they went. Jack Frost, the eternal teenager, began to hum something that sounded suspiciously like 'Bunny and Nature sitting in a tree' before the flat of North's hand connected with the back of his head. In spite of the silent rebuke, Sophie continued to giggle, an all too knowing look in her eye. She'd been picking up bits and pieces of the whole boy-girl thing from watching Jamie, and all eight year olds operated under the belief that they knew everything there was to know about relationships. She was just too young to understand how complicated things could be.

"One day, I'm going to fry that little pest."

"One day, I'll help you do it."

Silence stretched out between them, thin and twanging with tension. It occurred to Bunnymund that much of their relationship, whatever it might be, was silence of one sort or another. Comfortable silences, companionable silences, the silence of two beings desperate for company who and who couldn't bring themselves to say so, exhausted silences, even angry silences.

Terrified silences were harder for Bunnymund to endure than any of the others.

"So you trust me." He forced a smirk and got a glare. Seraphina threw herself onto one of the larger boulders and began combing her hair out with her fingers.

"If I didn't, I'd avoid you like I do _them_."

Bunnymund perched on the rock beside her, staring up at the sky. The clouds boiled and churned above, but the rain had abated for now.

"Do you think I'm being childish, Aster?"

Aster considered Seraphina for a moment. She wasn't looking at him, instead watching a chunk of ice as it floated down the stream. It was a difficult question to answer; Mother Nature was old, powerful and rather solitary, and that was a very dangerous combination. Old, powerful spirits could forget themselves and turn on everyone around them, especially when they had little contact with others. He, Tooth, North, and Sandman had taken down a few over the centuries, when they'd made themselves a threat to the children, and sometimes he wondered if that hadn't also been Pitch's greatest problem when it came right down to it.

"Yeah, love. A bit."

There was something in the look Seraphina gave him that made him suspect her thoughts were running down the same track. She'd never been one to tolerate a spirit that threw off the balance of the world for long. There had been times when the Guardians had arrived at the lair of some ancient and terrible being only to find nothing left but a smoking hole or a flooded city.

"It's a bit late for us not to be involved."

"And don't think I'm not kicking myself for coming to you. If I'd been thinking I'd have never said a word to you."

Bunnymund reached over, picking apart a tangle of black hair. "Thought you trusted me, Seraphina."

She leaned back, pulling her knees up to her chest. " _You_. Aster. Not the Easter Bunny, Guardian of Hope, and not the rest of them. I don't _know_ them." Seraphina smiled bitterly. "And that's my own fault. Never seemed a point, always so much to do, and they were so caught up in their own little niches..."

Bunnymund said, "I think you and Tooth would get on famously. She's as much a workaholic as you are."

Some of the bitterness leeched out of her smile. "I did have a bit of a soft spot for the Sisters of Flight. I miss them." Bunnymund made a vague noise, just to show he was listening. The important thing now was to keep her calm and let her conclude that the Guardians (no matter how unwelcome) were necessary in this battle. She'd drag herself kicking and screaming to reason eventually.

It was oddly comforting to think that Sophie had helped. He'd never seen anyone cut through the layers of defenses Mother Nature built around herself so easily, and it reminded him of what it had been like, rediscovering the connection to children he'd all but ignored until it was almost too late.

Children were one of the (many) things Bunnymund and Seraphina didn't talk about, except in the most abstract sense. He thought she'd be rather good with them, if she'd stop putting up so many walls. She didn't need believers the way he did, though he knew she had one or two genuine worshipers tucked away, but there was that need for contact, for connection...

 _When this is all over,_ he resolved, _we'll do something about that._

He just had to put it to her in terms she'd agree with. He'd had ages of experience at that.

"I won't just sit back and let you lot handle everything." Seraphina started twisting her hair into a thick braid, errant strands escaping before she was even done.

"Think you can keep your temper about this?"

"I can try. But if the Sandman doesn't stop making kissey faces at us, I'm going to feed him to my birds."

The Sandman disappeared deeper into the hanging roots of the tree with a silent giggle.


	8. Chapter 8

It was impossible to escape the feeling of being watched, no matter where you went on Mother Nature's island. There was always something staring from the undergrowth or lurking in the tree tops, and usually whatever it was looked like it was trying to decide if it was hungry enough to make attacking North, Tooth, Jack, and Sophie worth while. And of course, for every pair of eyes seen, there were hundreds more that went unnoticed.

North lead them back down the crude, slippery stairs to the beach, unwilling to leave his reindeer alone any longer, in case something decided that they might make for a good meal. He was fully confidant that his team could take down anything the island might throw at them, but it wouldn't do to upset Mother Nature any further by causing the death of another of her beasts.

"This place is _so cool!_ " Sophie announced. "Can I pet the sloth? Oh can I can I _please_?"

Jack gave the sloth in question a long and thoughtful look as it hung from a branch like the unholy love child of moss and a teddy bear. "It'd probably try to eat you," he pointed out, only half joking. Sophie pouted, but her desire to pet a sloth remained unfulfilled.

"Bunny's girlfriend is really mean."

"You can say that again," Jack muttered, and there was no argument from North or Tooth. "This is what happens when you don't try to get out there and socialize. You get all weird and start thinking tossing volcanoes at people you don't like is a good idea."

North let Sophie free once they reached the beach, and she immediately ran to Jack. Something in the trees was whimpering pathetically, and his lead reindeer was looking especially pleased with herself as she stamped her hooves and tossed her head. The remains of the hyena were all but gone, and the rising waves were washing away the bloody sand. "Perhaps this is not a topic for this place," he suggested, watching as a brilliant blue butterfly fluttered past, stirring up little dust devils with each flap of it's wings. They'd already had one near miss, and he wasn't eager for another flare up.

"Bunny must _really_ like her to put up with that," Sophie continued resolutely, but it seemed more like she was just thinking out loud than making actual conversation.

Tooth fluttered over, fussing with Sophie's hair for a few moments. "I guess they just understand each other. Bunny and Mother Nature were both here long before any of us, and after a while, you get used to certain kinds of behavior from people."

"Which doesn't make lobbing lightning bolts right," Jack added sourly.

Sophie chased after another butterfly as it went by, stopped from following it as it went out over the water when Jack caught the back of her shirt with the crook of his staff. "But they're very cute together."

"I _told_ you, we shoulda taken pictures!" Jack reminded her.

The little girl sniffed disdainfully. " _You_ just wanna embarrass Bunny. _I_ think it's sweet, and they should get married so Bunny won't be lonely anymore and Mother Nature won't be so angry."

North turned so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet, Tooth actually _landed_ for a moment as she gaped at Sophie, and Jack started laughing again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, I know, but I can't get this to fit with the rest of what was supposed to be this chapter (and will be the next), so I've decided to go ahead and post it now, by itself.

In a kingdom which has never known light and the nightmares roam, there is a room.

The room is neat, and the walls do not lean in to trap those who might wander in. There is a bed with clean linens and a blanket just right for a young girl to snuggle up under. There is a table beside the bed with a lamp that has never been lit, and the shelves are filled with rows of well loved toys. Most prominent is a doll dressed in the uniform of a general from a long dead army. It held pride of place on the bed, perched atop a pile of soft pillows.

There is a small vanity littered with combs and brushes and the kind of jewelry proper for a young lady of some status. The jewelry box sits open, a clockwork dancer eternally spinning in silence. The music has not played for centuries.

In a kingdom which has never known light and the nightmares roam, there is a king.

He stands alone in a room that should not be in his kingdom. The shadows under the bed do not move, and nothing lurks within the closet. For centuries, he has wondered about the purpose of this room, often ignoring it entirely when he found the mystery too frustrating.

He knows now what the room means. He knows now who it belongs to.

He hangs the portrait on the wall, fingers brushing briefly over the face of the young woman. Soon, she will be in her proper place, by his side.

_He remembered_ , and there would be nothing and no one who would keep his daughter from him ever again.


	10. Chapter 10

Bunnymund looked Seraphina up and down, then reached out to fiddle with the fibula pin of her cloak. "Temper," he reminded her gently, brushing at non-existent lint. She allowed him a few moments more to fuss, then gently took his paws and stared into his eyes.

"If you don't stop, the only one I'll be losing my temper with is _you_."

Little tooth fairies rushed hither and yon, swarming around their queen then darting off again, but Seraphina was certain that there were at least a few hiding within the ever shifting pattern of the flock, watching them. It was tempting to send them on their way with a gust of wind, but Seraphina was a guest of the Tooth Fairy now, and she would behave as a guest should. Sadly, this _also_ meant putting off giving Jack Frost that much deserved lightning bolt for a bit longer. At the moment, the winter spirit was making ice sculptures around the pond, each one a gloriously detailed work of art depicting Seraphina and Bunnymund in some of the most ridiculous poses she had ever seen. They would melt soon enough in the sultry heat of Punjam Hy Loo, but they were still obnoxious.

"Bunny!" North bellowed. "Save sweet nothings for later! We have work to do!"

"Don't offer," Bunnymund whispered, "I might take you up on it."

Seraphina stroked the side of Bunnymund's face. "When this is done, we shall shake the heavens with our revenge for every slight." He laughed and nuzzled her palm before grabbing Jack and frog marching him to North's sleigh. The Sandman was already gone, hunting for the telltale signs of stolen dream sand and Nightmares. Toothiana's fairies -- as many as could be spared from their tooth collecting duties -- would be scouting the far corners of the world, with the Tooth Fairy herself acting as mission control. What her fairies knew, she knew almost instantly, and could pass on to the others just as fast.

Jack, Bunnymund, and North would work to lure Pitch out of hiding.

Meanwhile, Seraphina would lurk about in Punjam Hy Loo, doing her duty as best she could. It would have been easier from the more familiar environs of the Warren or her own island sanctuary, but Toothiana functioned best in her own home, and the place was not one of Seraphina's known haunts. In truth, it was possibly the one of the _last_ places anyone would think to look for Mother Nature.

The ice sculptures melted quickly without Jack to maintain them, and Seraphina dipped her feet into the cool, clear water of the pond, reflecting that as hidey holes went, this was a nice one. Certainly more to her taste than North's workshop, with it's constant construction and industry. If she closed her eyes, it was almost like the days before the Sisters of Flight were slaughtered. She'd always had a fondness for the bird-women, with their jewel-like plumage and songs that reminded her of her own distant childhood.

There had been nights when Seraphina had lingered unseen outside Punjam Hy Loo just to listen.

Toothiana, she'd noticed, rarely sang these days.

Seraphina exhaled slowly, sending herself _out_ , becoming one with earth and sky, following the subtle patterns of the weather and the slow drift of the continents. She might as well have been one of the ice sculptured for all that she moved, but it was better to focus all her attention on her duty than to let herself _think_.

After a while, Toothiana fluttered down and joined her, still directing her flock, but clearly unwilling to leave her guest alone.

"Skirt New Brunswick," Seraphina advised. "There's a storm rolling in."

"Never a moment off," the Tooth Fairy said, only half-joking.

"Always something that needs done," Seraphina agreed. A few weary fairies used her as a convenient perch, and Seraphina let them be. She'd played the role of resting place for more than enough birds in her life. "Still nothing?"

"No sign. What about you? Couldn't you-"

"Fear is as much a part of the natural order as anything else," Seraphina said, cutting off Toothiana's question. "And when he doesn't want to, he doesn't cause any more fear than people would naturally experience. I've never been able to distinguish between what he causes and everything else." One of the fairies zipped around her head, and Seraphia obligingly opened her mouth to let the little thing get a look. Once satisfied, the fairy was off again, and she continued. "I've never tried to. I'd honestly rather _not_ know where that _thing_ is."

"Why?" Toothiana asked, sending another flock of fairies on their way. A great multi-tasker, the Tooth Fairy. "Wouldn't it be good to know where he is, so you could avoid him?"

Seraphina's fingers dug into the earth, and she forced it to remain still beneath her, no matter how satisfying letting it shake would be. "I'd be more likely to hunt him down." She turned a predator's smile on Toothiana, "And you lot do so object when I run about throwing mountains at Pitch."

"Because natural disasters are the perfect solution to every problem."

"I've always considered them one of the perks," Seraphina replied dryly.

With shrill shrieks, the little fairies suddenly converged on Seraphina and Toothiana, all twittering at once. It didn't take the Tooth Fairy's soft "Oh no," to know that something had gone horribly wrong, and cold dread filled the pit of Mother Nature's stomach.

"Where," she demanded flatly even as Toothiana took to the sky.

" _Burgess!_ He's taken North!"

The wind whipped and pulled at Seraphina, bringing her up after Toothiana, dark and angry storm clouds following in her wake. She felt no great affection for the old bandit, but something had been whispering in the back of her mind since she'd discovered the missing portrait.

Perhaps, it was time to settle with Pitch, once and for all.


	11. Chapter 11

If there was one thing Pitch Black prided himself on, it was his ability to _adapt_. It might take him a little while to orient himself down a new course, but _time_ was hardly something he was lacking. He was also _patient_ ; he'd waited six hundred years to avenge himself on the Guardians, mastering his stolen Nightmare Sand while he waited for belief to slowly fade from the world. Children abandoned their belief in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and the Sandman at younger and younger ages, and the Guardians never even noticed!

The plan would have worked perfectly if not for Jack Frost, and Pitch had managed to adapt to _that_ too! If he'd just had a bit more time, a chance at that _child_...

Well, it was all in the past now. Nothing to be done but learn from it and adapt.

The fairies had been the easiest part. Just a little bit of nightmare sand on the wind, and they were ready to believe the very _worst_ that Pitch had to tell them. The Guardians under attack, North already out of the fight, no doubt the others would soon follow -- all the while, the precious children of Burgess were in danger!

The Tooth Fairy would not be able to resist, drawing her away, making herself so very _vulnerable_. From there, it was a simple matter of offering a trade: the Tooth Fairy for Mother Nature. Either the Guardians would succeed in capturing his daughter, or she would come to him willingly when he offered his protection.

And what daughter would deny her father her aid in smiting their enemies? Together, they would crush the Guardians and the Man in the Moon, and they would hold sway over the Earth forever more.

The trap was set. There was nothing more to do but wait until the Tooth Fairy came rushing to the rescue of her allies.

He might even return her to them whole, when he was done.

 

The Tooth Fairy was like a brilliant comet against the night sky, a streak of color against the darkness. Pitch found himself smiling, nightmare sand swirling gently around him. "I do appreciate punctuality in a woman," he murmured, coaxing the sand into his palm.

Lightning flashed in the sky, drawing the Nightmare King's attention away from the Tooth Fairy, black sand falling from between his fingers. His breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the grey cloaked figure amongst the gathering clouds, as graceful as a leaf on the wind. "Surely _not_ -"

But it was. _His daughter_ , following in the Tooth Fairy's wake... right where he could get her. No need to deal with the Guardians at all!

Right up until the point where they would be laying broken at his feet, anyway.

He could hear the Tooth Fairy calling for her cohorts, but she was unimportant now, beyond how she might attempt to interfere. The plan was still solid, the trap still workable. Neither of them had spotted him yet, intent as they were on finding their supposedly endangered allies. The Nightmares sprang forth right on cue, menacing and awful and so wonderfully distracting as Pitch gathered his black sand to him one more, splitting it into two small, ever churning balls.

Dream sand was a beautifully versatile thing; in the hands of someone who could command it, it could become literally _anything_. A weapon, a shield, a construct; Pitch had chosen Nightmares because the form called to him... and he was unopposed to an amusing bit of word play. But that was not _all_ he did with his stolen sand. Even corrupted, at it's very core, the sand was a thing that pulled the mind into sleep, opening the doors of the subconscious, leaving both mind and body vulnerable.

Let them attack his Nightmares. He could make more. He just needed an opening...

 

It came together beautifully, in a single moment of perfection. The remains of the Nightmares rose in a sudden tide, surrounding both the Warrior Queen of the Fairies and Mother Nature, crashing down upon them as Pitch released his missiles. The Tooth Fairy fell like a shot bird, possibly not even aware that she had been stuck before sleep claimed her.

Mother Nature struggled for but a moment, beautiful in her terror as Pitch emerged from the shadows. And then she too fell.


	12. Chapter 12

It was the children of Burgess who found Tooth; she'd been left where she'd fallen, forgotten by Pitch Black when he claimed his prize. Together, they spirited her away to Jamie's house and tried, their desperation increasing with each attempt, to wake her. She remained terrifyingly asleep, the only signs that she still lived the steady rise and fall of her chest and the occasional terrified whimper. Sophie stayed by the Tooth Fairy's side, clinging to her hand while Cupcake stood guard, a baseball bat clutched in her hands. Anything that tried to get past _her_ was in for a hard time indeed.

Jamie was more concerned with trying to find a way to contact Jack, or any of the other Guardians.

Contact finally came by way of Tooth's fairies, who flocked to their fallen mistress, followed by the Guardians. Jack set himself to coaxing the story out of the panicking fairies while North and the Sandman fussed over Tooth herself. Bunnymund held her hand briefly, hackles raised, then announced that he was going to check on Mother Nature at the Tooth Palace. He ruffled Sophie's hair in a brief, affectionate gesture, then dropped down into a hole, pulling it closed behind him.

After several minutes of careful questioning and a great deal of pantomime, Jack waved a hand at the section of the flock perched on Jamie's headboard and announced, "These guys say that they saw _us_ here in Burgess, fighting Pitch. Tooth and -- oh hell, Mother Nature -- came running to 'our' rescue, then Pitch..." He trailed off, watching the increasingly frenzied gesticulations of the fairies. "He attacked them with the sand-"

Bunnymund popped out of a hole, nearly as frantic as the fairies. "She's not _there!_ "

"We know," North told him gently, leading Bunnymund over to the bed and making him sit down. "She was with Tooth."

The flock of fairies descended on the Easter Bunny. They chirped mournfully as they tried to comfort him. He shook them off with a snarl, snapping, "No. _No_. She'd turn Burgess into a smoking crater before she'd let Pitch take her!"

Sandman sprinkled a pinch of dreamsand over Tooth's eyes before turning a thoughtful expression on Bunnymund. Above his head, little golden versions of Pitch's Nightmares dissolved into a swirl of sand. The fairies all began nodding, twittering their agreement. _Nightmare sand maintained the properties of dreamsand._ All it would take to knock out even the most powerful spirit were a few well aimed grains.

On the bed, Tooth sighed as the tension drained out of her body, sinking into the comfort of a good dream. She would wake to the horrible reality soon enough.

"We have to _go_ ," Bunnymund insisted, shooting to his feet.

North pressed a large hand against Bunnymund's chest, rumbling, "We cannot be rushing in half-cocked." Bunnymund knocked his hand away, only to find himself restrained by ropes of dreamsand.

"I know you're worried about her-" Sophie began.

"I'm worried about _us!_ " Bunnymund snapped, startling Sophie enough to make her pull back in shock. "Pitch Black has _the spirit of all nature_ , who hates him with a _passion_! She could rip the planet apart in a fit of rage -- and that's one of the less horrifying scenarios. _Imagine what Pitch could do if he finds a way to control her._ " He looked at the still sleeping Tooth Fairy. "He can get into dreams, wants..."

Jack looked surprisingly grim as he nodded. "Pitch made the fairies think we were being attacked," he reminded them, letting the full extent of the horror dawn on everyone in the room.

Pitch Black could make people believe what he wanted.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Something prickled against the skin of Seraphina's neck, but that _wasn't right_. She tried to raise a hand to touch her throat, but her arms were just so heavy -

_this isn't right i can't feel_

\- so she lay on her bed, clutching the doll the Tsarina had made for her personally -

_why is everything so small_

\- while she waited for her head to clear. She had a _terrible_ headache, but Nanny would be there soon with one of her soothing teas-

_they ate her eyes and split her open hung her intestines like streamers_

\- and just as soon as she was better, she would go see Daddy. It was just too awful to believe; her father was finally home for good, and she couldn't even get out of bed!

_too small too small_

Still, there was no rush.

Seraphina had all the time in the world to be with her Daddy again.


	13. Chapter 13

There was a knife in Bunnymund's hands when he emerged from the depths of the Warren to join his fellow Guardians. It sat snug within it's sheath, only the leather wrapped handle and and guard visible. Both were undecorated, and the only ornamentation on the sheath was a thin sliver of a crescent moon stitched upon it with silver thread. It was such a small thing, but Bunnymund handled with with great care and reverence.

North and Toothiana had returned armed to the teeth, while Jack carried his staff and the full, terrifying weight of Winter within him and the Sandman brought his ever malleable dreamsand.

Bunnymund brought only his boomerangs, eggs, and the knife. He needed no other weapons -- just the chance to get close enough to Pitch.

"Is that-?" Toothiana asked, fluttering close. Bunnymund nodded as he attached the sheath to his bandolier. "That's only supposed to be used in an emergency."

Fear couldn't be killed, but it _could_ be hurt, especially if you had the right weapon.

Jack opened his mouth with a smirk, but whatever joke he might have been about to make died unspoken when he met Bunnymund's eyes. "I'd say this counts."

"What's that thing made out of, uranium?" Jack asked, trying to snatch the knife from Bunnymund. 

The Pooka slapped his hand away and stepped back. "Lemme get close to Pitch, and you'll see." He caressed the pommel lightly; it was warm to the touch, comforting. A final gift from a dear friend before he'd left in search of others who had survived Pitch Black's omnicidal rampage, before he'd been trapped on Earth.

Bunnymund had been tempted to bring the knife out and use it more than once, but in the end he'd always stayed his hand.

_I'm going to carve his heart out and give it to you on a platter, Seraphina._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Can't we open the curtains? Nanny always says fresh air and sunlight are good for me."

_no curtains no window no **light**_

"Just lay back down, my dear. Sleep is the best thing for you right now."

Her father's hand was cool against Seraphina's forehead, and there was something gritty clinging to his skin. She tried to turn her head away, shutting her eyes to keep it out while he whispered assurances that all would be well after she slept for a bit.

"Don't worry, sweet girl, Daddy will make it all better."

Seraphina clutched the doll in her hands tightly. Too-fragile cloth ripped beneath her fingers, and she cried out in distress while her father jerked back sharply. Stuffing spilled out of the little general and spread out across the blanket. She bit back a sob as she stared down at her most beloved toy. " _Oh-!_ "

"Shh shh shh, don't fret," Daddy purred, long fingers tangling in Seraphina's hair. "I'll fetch you another one." He plucked the ruined doll from her hands and swept over to the shelves, long black robe trailing behind him as he inspected the ranks of stuffed toys. "How about a nice pony?"

"I want the bunny."

Daddy ( _monster_ ) jerked sharply, his smile stiff and lifeless as he turned to look at Seraphina. "Surely not that raggedy old thing."

_his skin's all wrong_

Seraphina's eyes locked on the rabbit in question, though it wasn't truly a rabbit at all. It had been made to resemble a Pooka, with soft grey fur and little green beads for eyes. Mummy had even sewn a little waistcoat for it, for Pookas were civilized and so of course wore clothes-

_only when he feels like it_

"Please, Daddy?"

He put the little general on the vanity -- Seraphina would repair it later, when she was feeling better -- and snatched the bunny from it's place. His lips curled in a sneer that made Seraphina's guts twist and gooseflesh rise on her skin.

_monster murderer thief of childhood star slayer_

"I'll get you something better."

_remember remember remember_

Seraphina held out a hand, into which her father reluctantly dropped the bunny.

_aster_

There was a sound in the distance, like a great crack of thunder. Seraphina held the bunny close to her chest as her father whirled, head raised as he snarled, golden eyes flashing.

_pitch_

"Go to sleep, my dear. Daddy has visitors to deal with."


	14. Chapter 14

"I need to-"

_wake up_

"Daddy says I should sleep. I'll feel better after I sleep."

_that's **not** my father_

"Of course, Daddy's right. He knows what's best."

_**not my father** _

"He would never do anything to-"

_**NOT HIM** _

Seraphina sat up against the headboard, hugging the Pooka doll tightly to her chest. "It's just a bad dream," she whispered to herself. "Daddy won't let-"

_daddy daddy **daddy** wake **up** it's a nightmare_

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, blocking out the darkened bedroom the way she couldn't block out the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. It was just a leftover from the illness that had left her bedridden. She stroked her bunny's

_aster_

fur, wishing she could just go to sleep like Daddy had told her to.

_what's wrong with your throat seraphina_

She'd been sick for so long that she felt all hollowed out. Her throat was dry and scratchy

_there's something wrapped around_

and she'd feel so much better if she had a drink of water. Seraphina swung her legs over the side of the bed, resolution filling her. Her knees felt like jelly, but Daddy had left the water on her dressing table rather than her night stand. It was just a few steps -- surely she could manage that much.

The room spun when she stood; everything felt wrong, too small, but that was silly. She tottered unsteadily to the dressing table, stumbling the last few steps and sitting down heavily on the spindly chair. She placed the Pooka carefully on the edge before reaching for the lamp. The green glass eyes seemed to twinkle with life and mischief as she raised the light on the lamp. The remains of the little general captured the shadows -- even his stuffing appeared stained with darkness. "Poor love," Seraphina murmured, reaching for the ruined doll.

That was when she saw her reflection in the vanity.

_**WAKE!** _

There was blood on her neck where the thorny black choker had dug into her flesh. Black sand glittered around her eyes and on the dark metal of the collar, collecting in her blood where it had fallen off the thorns. Her hands flew up to the choker; the thorns dug into her palms, drawing blood. The pain helped clear her head, pushing back the surreal dream Daddy-

"Pitch," she reminded herself, gazing at the deep scratched on her palms. "That thing is Pitch Black, and he is _not_ my father." She brushed the sand from her eyes before studying the collar of thorns in the mirror. It seems to be a solid circle, mimicking the appearance of Euphorbia, but it was gritty to the touch. The thorns were cold as they dug into her flesh, and she could see no way to rid herself of them. She felt weak as a kitten, and worse still, she couldn't feel the _world_ Where the constant pressure of her duty had been, now there was nothing but a gaping void.

The patterns of the weather no longer called for her guidance, the ground beneath her feet no longer pulsed with her heartbeat-

For the first time in centuries, Seraphina was completely alone in her head.

She tugged gently at the thorns again, and was rewarded with more blood and pain. Her flesh crawled at the touch. Pitch had cut her off from her power and tried to trap her in a dream.

Panic and fear quickly turned to rage; she had denied herself vengeance against Pitch Black in the name of balance, but the line had well and truly been crossed. He had gone beyond being someone she loathed so someone who had _dared_ to interfere with her duty!

Her father would never have stood for such a thing, and neither would she.

So of course, she was in no position to avenge herself.

Escape was the only option. She dared not risk being taken again. After that-

_Toothiana._

Had Pitch taken her, too? And North, as the fairies had reported?

Had the Guardians been in any real danger... or had it all been one of Pitch's tricks?

_Is Aster safe?_

Seraphina shook off the concerns. She could be of no help to any of them as she was, if they were in danger at all. Better to escape first and restore her powers. The Guardians were more than capable of looking after themselves in the meantime.

And then...

And then, she was going to make Vesuvius look like a hot mud bath.


	15. Chapter 15

Attacking Pitch in his own lair hadn’t been the wisest of plans. Bunnymund was more than willing to concede the point. Even with all five Guardians at the height of their powers, and Pitch with no believers at all, it was still the Boogeyman’s home turf they fought on. No matter how empowered they might have been, he had the advantage. Twisting stairs ended in dark corridors that opened only to the ancient fear spirit, leaving them facing blank stone walls and chasing shadows.

There had been no sign of Mother Nature. Not even the slightest clue to where she might be hidden in the maze.

“I could keep this up all night,” Pitch purred. His voice came from within a shadow filled archway, but his shape flitted across the promenade above.

The Sandman’s dreamsand slithered and hissed protectively around them all, keeping the darkness at bay. Bunnymund gripped the pommel of his knife tightly, drawing reassurance from it’s presence as he _listened._ Not to the voices, not to the steady hum of Tooth’s wings, or the sound of sand sliding across stone, or Jack’s steady stream of taunts.

Bunnymund listened for _movement_. The unmistakable sounds of Pitch Black assuming a solid form, if only for a few seconds.

That was all he needed.

“But it really is unbearably rude of you to just waltz into my home uninvited.”

Bunnymund’s ears twitched. Just a voice, just a shadow, a distraction. No body to hit-

“I _do_ have better things to do with my time than entertain you.”

Hooves against stone, too light to be real horses. Golden eyes that glowed with sinister intent within the darkness. Pitch had retained control of his Nightmares. North uttered a soft oath as the light from the dreamsand made the Nightmares glitter. They were almost beautiful.

“So why don’t you come out?” Jack asked. His tone was obnoxious, and his lips curled in a disdainful sneer that only a teenager could really manage. The winter spirit used it to good effect.

“Now why would I do that... when I can do _this_?”

The stone beneath their feet dissolved into swirling sand, sending Bunnymund, North, and Jack plummeting. Dreamsand caught Bunnymund before he could reach the unseen bottom of the pit, and the wind carried Jack unsteadily as North clung to Tooth.

Pitch laughed in the darkness as the sand closed over them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Boogeyman was laughing somewhere in the labyrinth that was his realm, and the sound of it echoed through every shadow. Some small part of Seraphina wailed in terror and demanded that she return to the safety of her room, where the shadows didn’t reach for her with oily hands-

_Stop that,_ she scolded herself. _You are no child to cower beneath the covers at the shadows in the closet._

The problem with that line of reasoning, she knew, was that in this place, monsters could and _did_ lurk in every dark corner, ready to eat her alive.

Seraphina raised a hand to the collar, letting the thorns dig into the flesh of her palm. The pain kept her head clear, kept her sharp. Still, cold dread warred with the white heat of her rage; was there any way out if Pitch did not will it? Every hall was the same, dark corridors seemingly without end and long, twisting stairways that lead to nowhere, and vast chambers where only silence and darkness held sway. For all she knew, she was wandering in circles as the Boogeyman shifted things around to suit his whims.

_Or perhaps I am not moving at all. I could be trapped in another nightmare._

The only true defining features, the only things that varied from hall to chamber to stair, were the cages. Some still hung from the ceiling on long chains while others littered the floor, torn apart by some terrible force. Seraphina stopped to examine one of the broken cages, taking hold of one of the bars and pulling until it came free. The sudden lack of resistance sent her tumbling onto her back, the surprisingly warm metal clutched tightly in her hands. She held it close to her face, able -- just barely -- to make out the ancient spells forged into the metal despite the gloom. The magic was old and faded, weakened by the breaking of the cage centuries before, but there was still a spark of power there, something meant to be used against the Fearlings.

Pitch laughed again.

Could he see her? Was he mocking her futile efforts to escape? Or had some other quarry caught his attention?

“You do love to play with your food, don’t you, old shadow?”

Seraphina swung the bar a few times, testing the weight of it.

“Well, I can play too.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains graphic violence and character death. Consider yourselves warned.

Oh, he was going to _enjoy_ this.

After hundreds of years of humiliation at the hands of the Guardians, he _had_ them. They had dared to come to his realm uninvited and put themselves in _his_ power.

And all for what? To take something that belonged to Pitch.

_She’s mine again, and you won’t take her!_

Pitch had planned to send his daughter after the Guardians, once she was ready, but this... oh, this was so much better. He could take his time, pick them off one by one as he feasted on their fear. They would die alone in the dark, and they would know utter despair before he finished with them, and then he would present his daughter with their remains as trophies.

Then there would be no one who could separate Pitch from his beloved little girl ever again.

He watched the Easter Bunny, just one more shadow in the darkness, a smile pulling his lips back from his teeth.

_What girl doesn’t like a new fur coat?_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The only sounds were his own breathing and the beating of his heart in his ears. Bunnymund couldn’t even hear the others anymore -- they’d disappeared into the darkness, and when he’d emerged, he’d been alone in the mad, endless, ever shifting labyrinth-

_No. Don’t focus on your eyes, those can be fooled. Your ears, your nose, let **them** guide you..._

Bunnymund forced himself to relax, inhaling slowly. No sounds reached him, and the air was dry and dusty as a long forgotten tomb.

But beneath _that_ , there was a hint of something warmer. Good earth, sweet grass, magnolias, and the slightest promise of a summer thunderstorm.

Seraphina.

Bunnymund exhaled as slowly as he’d inhaled, focusing on that scent and letting it lead him through the twisted maze. The dark stone was cool and gritty under foot, and it felt like that grit was clinging to him, getting into his fur and making him itch horribly. The longer he walked, the more certain he became that he was being watched. Odds were, he was walking straight into a trap... but sometimes, the only way to deal with a trap was to spring it.

The scent of summer grew stronger, pulling him on until he reached a room utterly unlike anything else in Pitch’s realm. The shadows didn’t loom, and a lamp provided cheerful illumination to a bedroom fit for a young girl. Ranks of soft, cuddly toys stared down at him with glittering glass eyes. The bed was empty, and the chair by the dressing table had been knocked over. A ruined doll dressed like a Golden Age general sat beside a little Pooka in a waistcoat, and it’s green glass eyes were almost accusatory as Bunnymund inspected the room.

The portrait hung on the wall above the bed, the gilt on the frame glittering in the lamplight. It was an actual painting rather than a photograph or one of the holographic pictures that had been popular in the final days of the Golden Age. Just as well -- a good portrait artist could more easily hide all those signs of stress and weariness that a photograph would have captured in all their harsh glory.

The artist had made Seraphina and Kozmotis Pitchiner look like people with a long and happy future ahead of them, instead of a doomed man and the daughter he was about to leave behind. Seraphina looked the very model of a proper young girl on the edge of adolescence. Her black hair had been tamed into gentle waves, and she wore a dress covered in frothy lace that Bunnymund was certain Seraphina shucked the moment she had the chance as she stood beside her father. The artist had chosen to paint her with an expression of pleasant neutrality, but Bunnymund thought he could see a hint of mischief in the curve of her lips.

Even seated, Kozmotis Pitchiner seemed to tower over young Seraphina. He had forgone his uniform in favor of a pale grey tunic, a locket resting over his heart. As with Seraphina, the artist had managed to capture hints of the real personality hidden behind the mask of propriety -- a touch of humor and liveliness in a pair of warm golden eyes that Bunnymund had never seen in Pitch Black.

Seraphina had accused Pitch of being a monster wearing her father’s corpse more than once. Looking at the portrait, Bunnymund could see why.

The Pooka clasped the pommel of his knife tightly, eyes narrowing. Seraphina _had_ been in the room, and recently. The scent of her was still strong, and the tiny drops of blood on the bed were fresh. Wherever she was now, she likely wasn’t far.

It was time to spring the trap.

“ _You’re not him,_ ” Bunnymund announced, raising his voice so it filled the sepulcher silence. “You’re just a shadow, a little ghost fading away in the light -- and you’re _nothing to be afraid of!_ ”

The stillness was that of a predator readying to strike, and like a terrible serpent, he did. A great whip of black sand lashed out from under the bed as Pitch emerged, lips skinned back from his teeth in an awful, feral snarl. He held his scythe loosely in one hand, directing the sand with the other. There was a madness in those eyes, a pale and faded imitation of the Golden General’s, that hadn’t been there the last time they’d fought. That had been before his own Nightmares had dragged him away, and Bunnymund almost felt pity for the creature trying so hard to kill him.

“I’m going to squeeze the life out of you, rabbit!”

Bunnymund leapt upwards, twisting in the air as he dodged to avoid the sandy tendrils. He slammed his feet into the vanity and rocketed across the room, landing on the other side of the bed from Pitch. Pale wood and rose colored linens were ripped to shreds as the sands shifted, rocketing through the air with enough force to strip flesh from bone. Bunnymund kept moving, knowing that standing still for even a moment meant a painful death. He raced around the room, lobbing exploding eggs and boomerangs at Pitch, hunting for an opening. Colorful explosions were swallowed up by nightmare sand, and the boomerangs were swiftly reduced to splinters, joined by the toys that got caught up in the sand storm, filling the air the air with stuffing.

“Hold still, damn you! I’d hate to spoil the pelt!”

Sand completely coated the floor, slithering around the shattered furniture and finally closing around Bunnymund’s legs, yanking him off his feet and towards the towering nightmare that stood in the middle of it all.

Bits of sand glittered on the edge of the scythe, illuminated by the miraculously unbroken lamp. Pitch’s smile was as wickedly sharp as the blade as it reformed to a straight edge while sand slithered p Bunnymund’s prone body. “That’s better. Do try not to squirm-”

Bunnymund yanked his dagger from it’s sheath, flooding the room with blinding light. Pitch let out a wail like a damned soul as moonlight impregnated crystal sliced easily through corrupted dreamsand and into equally corrupted flesh. Pitch flung Bunnymund away, into a wall that shattered with the force of the impact, knocking the air out of Bunnymund.

It wasn’t often that the Pooka had reason to be truly thankful that he was no longer mortal -- a blow like that would have shattered bone otherwise, possibly even killing him outright. He forced himself to move, narrowly avoiding being bisected by Pitch’s scythe as he came down where he had landed.

The gash Bunnymund had managed to make across Pitch’s chest oozed sluggishly, foul black fluid sliding down grey flesh and soaking into his robe. Not the death blow Bunnymund had hoped to strike, and the brilliant glow of the dagger seemed only to enrage the old shadow, even as the pure moonlight made his flesh sizzle.

“This ends here and now, Pitch! No more of you and your games, no more shadows! Just the light!”

“ _You can’t kill fear_ , rabbit!” Pitch howled, rushing at Bunnymund with that great, terrible scythe swinging. The Pooka rolled out of the way, cutting through the sand that had risen up behind him. Pitch chased, and Bunnymund _ran_ , landing what blows he could on the ancient nightmare. They battled through the labyrinth, throwing everything they had at each other. Bunnymund had no idea where he was -- not that _that_ was a change -- but he could _smell_ something Pitch had missed.

Magnolias.

Pitch grappled with Bunnymund, trying to force the crystal dagger from his grip. They tumbled down what felt like an endless flight of stairs, rolling past shattered cages, kicking and biting and doing their damnedest to gut each other.

The pair of them only narrowly avoided crashing into Seraphina at the bottom of the stairs, and the dagger went flying out of Bunnymund’s paw as Pitch’s impossibly strong fingers dug into the tendons of his wrist. It skittered across the floor to stop at the hem of Seraphina’s gown, too far away for Bunnymund to retrieve. Pitch put all of his not inconsiderable weight on Bunnymund, pinning him to the floor while the sand wrapped around him. Bands of it trapped his arms at his sides and bound his legs together, rendering him immobile.

“Daddy?”

The light of the dagger reflected off the fresh blood on Seraphina’s neck, flowing slowly from where the awful, thorny collar pricked at her flesh, and her gaze was terrifyingly blank. There was little of the Seraphina Bunnymund knew in the way she spoke and how she seemed to shrink in on herself, hands behind her back and her head tilted in a pose of submission.

Pitch stood, a slimy smile gracing his thin face as he turned towards the obviously broken shell of Mother Nature. “Oh my girl, where have you been?” he purred, a parody of concerned fatherhood. “Why did you leave your room? I was so worried.”

When Seraphina spoke, it was with the soft voice of a frightened little girl. “I heard something and I got scared. Daddy, what’s happening? You’re _hurt_!”

Pitch’s expression softened with genuine affection as he approached Seraphina, arms spread to embrace her. Bunnymund opened his mouth -- to shout a warning, or maybe just to scream -- only to have the black sand flood his mouth, smothering him. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, my dear, I’m going to be just fine-”

The black iron bar smashed across Pitch’s face, sending him to the floor on his hands and knees with a surprised scream, a few teeth flying out of his mouth. He spat out more foul black, and Seraphina hit him again across the back of his neck, forcing him flat on the floor. Pitch rolled onto his back, face twisting into an expression of grief and betrayal. Seraphina brought the bar down again, hard enough to shatter bone and leave Pitch’s face an a ruin. She picked up the crystal dagger, kneeling beside the keening nightmare, eyes glittering with the trapped moonlight.

“There will always be fear,” she hissed, driving the dagger into Pitch’s chest, “but it doesn’t have to be _you_.”

The fearlings that had been trapped within the flesh of Kozmotis Pitchiner exploded free with enough force to send Seraphina hurtling back, ten thousand evils finally released from their prison. The corrupted sand fell lifelessly away from Bunnymund, letting him roll away from the epicenter of the escaping fearlings -- thankfully, they were more interested in claiming their freedom than putting an end to the last Pooka. For the moment, Bunnymund was happy to let them have it.

Soon, there was nothing left of Pitch Black but a rapidly dissolving shell -- then there was only so much dust and a cracked crystal dagger.

Bunnymund moved slowly, every part of him screaming in pain as he took up the dagger. “Seraphina-”

Fading moonlight caught on Seraphina’s tears as she cried over the pile of dust. All Bunnymund could do was let her.


	17. Chapter 17

Without Pitch Black to warp and twist his realm, navigation became almost ridiculously easy. It was still slow going, with Bunnymund leaning heavily on Seraphina as they limped down the halls. The fading light of the crystal dagger illuminated their path, and neither one of them spoke -- something Seraphina was supremely grateful for. She didn’t know what she would have said in any case.

She should have felt like celebrating. Pitch Black was _dead_ , and Kozmotis Pitchiner had been avenged. She’d longed for this day for thousands of years while the Nightmare King had mock her with that _face_ \-- the ghost of her father could haunt her no more...

And all she felt was empty.

In that last moment, even with his face pulped, the look in his _eyes_ -!

Thorns pricked at her flesh, and Seraphina stumbled to a halt, nearly dropping Bunnymund. “I want this thing off,” she whispered. “I want it off!” She let Bunnymund go, grabbing the collar with both hands and yanking at it desperately.

Bunnymund took hold of her wrists, pulling her hands away from the thorns before she could hurt herself further. “Shh, shh, hush now-”

Seraphina was crying again, and she hated herself for it. She hated feeling so weak, so _helpless_.

“We’ll get it off you, just hold still.” Bunnymund slid the dagger carefully between her throat and the collar, whispering reassurances-

 _Treating me like a scared child,_ Seraphina thought bitterly.

The collar split apart under the edge of the dagger, and Bunnymund gently peeled it away. Seraphina’s awareness of the world came crashing down on her like a tsunami, sending her staggering into the nearest wall. There was _so much_ that demanded her attention, so many things she needed to set to rights before the whole system spiraled completely out of control. She could already tell that it would take _months_ to undo the damage already done by her prolonged absence; more than one spirit had noticed her disappearance and taken advantage of it. She could feel them throwing the natural order into chaos, even in the depths of the Nightmare King’s realm.

“Easy, girl, I’ve got you.” Bunnymund helped her stay upright, a rock in the tempest she was caught in.

“I need to go.”

“We will,” he promised, “we will.” He rested his chin on top of her head, stroking her hair. “Just have to keep moving.”

The Sandman found them not long after that, herding Jack and North along. The winter spirit took one look at them, opened his mouth, then quickly shut it again, remaining blessedly silent even as those blue eyes filled with questions. Seraphina thought she saw pity there, but she couldn’t bring herself to look again. North, on the other hand, immediately began fussing over Bunnymund, trying to coax the story of what happened to leave him.

Toothiana saw to it that _that_ didn’t last long, literally bursting through one of the walls, her fine feathers coated in rock dust and surrounded by a swarm of her fairies. “The whole place is starting to fall apart!” she announced, spurring them onward.

Seraphina knew she shouldn’t have been surprised -- it was Pitch’s realm, and without his will to hold together, it would begin to decay. It might take time for it to collapse completely, but it _would_ go the way of it’s master, nothing more than dust and bad dreams.

 

It was night when they emerged from the crumbling realm of the dead Nightmare King; the moon hung round and full in the sky, looking down on them. The air was clean, warm, and _alive_ , filled with the gentle eddies of air that played with Seraphina’s hair and caressed her skin, welcoming Mother Nature back to the world. Her butterflied descended on her, perching everywhere they could as they whispered their reports to their mistress. An umibozu in the Sea of Japan whipping up storms to capsize boats, a cockatrice driving away rain, a colony of kobolds mining their way through troll territory with no care for the wanton destruction of the mountains-

“What _happened_ down there?” Jack finally demanded to know. “One minute, I’ve got Nightmares trying to chew my face off, the next they just _disolve_ , and-” He trailed off, eyes locked on Seraphina’s face. “Did...”

“I have to go.” Seraphina wrapped herself in the winds, ignoring Jack’s pity, ignoring how Bunnymund reached for her. Her butterflies formed an honor guard around her, and she flew as far and as fast as the winds could take her.

 

Jack started to go after Mother Nature, put Toothiana stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to the ground. Bunnymund produced a scrap of silk from his bandoleer and began cleaning his dagger. The wane moonlight caught on the spidery cracks, and it would never be what it once was; a hard blow might well shatter it into a million glittering shards. He sheathed it with a quiet sigh, trying not to think of the look on Seraphina’s face as she’d driven the blade into Pitch’s withered heart.

“Pitch is dead,” he finally confirmed. No one was surprised. “There are -- a lot of fearlings escaped when he died,” he continued, “so we’ve got that to clean up.”

“Are you alright?” Toothiana asked, not bothering to wait for his permission as she ran her fingers lightly over his ribs, hunting for broken bones. Bunnymund hated to think of how awful he must have looked; he’d be weeks in healing, if the aches he felt every time he tried to breathe were anything to go by. He winced in spite of himself, and Toothiana nodded as if that confirmed something for her. “I hate to say it, but we need to get you taken care of first. The fearlings can wait.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Toothiana made a vague noise of agreement, her smile pure steel. “Yes, you will be. Just as soon as we get you into the hands of the yetis.”

Bunnymund _knew_ the look on the Tooth Fairy’s face; there was going to be no arguing with her, and he was just too tired to try.

At least she hadn’t demanded to check his teeth yet.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bunnymund kept a careful eye on the storm systems, but he didn’t go to them, no matter how much Jack teased or how many questions Sophie peppered him with. North and Toothiana held their tongues, but he didn’t miss the way they watched him, and Sandman was absolutely awful with his little smirks and dreamsand butterflies. Toothiana was always quick to volunteer information about unusual weather patterns without even being asked, and Bunnymund suspected her of conspiring with Jack and Sophie.

But after thousands of years, Bunnymund knew better than to chase. Mother Nature wasn’t a danger to anyone but the spirits who had been idiotic enough to try and take advantage of her absence, and she wouldn’t appreciate being intruded on.

Still, if anything, he would have said that Mother Nature was showing a remarkable amount of self control in her dealing with the spirits who had thought her absence meant they could do as they pleased.

The hunt for the escaped fearlings occupied much of Bunnymund’s time in any case. The months passed with surprising speed, until suddenly the leaves were turning and the air held a distinct bite that promised an especially harsh winter. Bunnymund was helping Sophie collect leaves for a school project when Seraphina joined them, little more than a silent shadow amongst the bare trees. Sophie saw her the same time Bunnymund did, but played it completely cool.

There was a reason why the girl had become one of Bunnymund’s favorite believers.

“Oooh!” Sophie raced ahead, eyes on a maple leaf that had turned a particularly beautiful shade of red. Bunnymund and Seraphina hung back, watching Sophie scale the tree to claim her prize.

“Do you ever miss not-” Seraphina began slowly, waving her fingers in Sophie’s direction. “Not having one of those?”

Bunnymund gaped at her, mind briefly going blank. He’d _thought_ about bringing up the topic with her, but he hadn’t expected Seraphina to do it herself without any prompting. Everything he’d considered telling her went flying out of his head, and she just _watched_ him, _waiting_. “Sometimes,” he admitted,” but I’ve always been so busy, and-” Bunnymund caught himself, laughing softly. “Well.”

Seraphina looked back to Sophie, who was going after another leaf, a beautifully golden specimen. “I always wanted a house full of my own,” she confided, “but I made myself a promise when I was a girl I would never leave my child alone the way Daddy left me, you see. I loved him dearly, and he thought he was doing right by me, but...”

“He left you alone.”

“No child of mine would ever grow up like that. Then everything _happened_ , and it kept right on happening. It was never the _right_ time, there was never _enough_ time. And there’s still so much left to do...” She sighed, her breath coming out a white plume. “Immortal, powerful, and somehow we never managed to just _make_ the time, did we, Aster?”

Bunnymund took her hand slowly, half expecting Seraphina to pull away. She didn’t, threading her fingers through his as Sophie scrambled nimbly out of the tree, waving her prizes.

“Well, we’ve got all the time in the world, don’t we?” The wind whispered through the trees, picking up a few of the dying leaves and sending them swirling around Sophie, to her obvious delight. “We can wait for things as long as we need to.”

Gratitude flashed across Seraphina’s face, and she tucked a few rogue strands of hair behind her ear. “I seem to recall you casting some rather covetous eyes on a few of the plants in my garden,” she prompted.

“The orchids-” Bunnymund said quickly, remembering their gently glowing petals clearly.

Seraphina laughed, pulling him along as she followed after Sophie. “Those orchids are _delicate_ , and require very specific conditions to thrive. I don’t think I can trust you with them just yet. But I happen to have some golden ivy -- wonderfully hearty stuff, that-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left to go now!


	18. Epilogue

“Careful!”

Jack chased the Pooka kit through the Warren, both of them very nearly tearing through the orchids being planted. The eternally youthful winter spirit just laughed at the rebuke, staying just a few steps behind the little Pooka.

They’d named him Kozmotis, but only his mother called him that. To everyone else, he was Kozmo. He was a bright, happy child with an easy grin and a ready laugh, and was very much adored by his parents, even when he was mistaking flowers for weeds while ‘helping’ in the garden. His fur was the same glossy black as his mother’s hair, with lighter grey clan markings beginning to emerge as he shed his baby fur, and his father’s brilliant green eyes. Somehow, in spite of their many duties, his parents always made time for him.

It wasn’t always easy, and it was far from perfect, but there was genuine happiness there.

Seraphina checked the lunar orchids for damage, muttering promises of dire consequences to come down on Jack’s head if they had been damaged. “They _seem_ to be adapting well,” she finally admitted, turning a weather eye on Jack and Kozmo. There were times when she was perhaps a _bit_ paranoid about her son’s safety, but no one could blame her for that. The child of two powerful spirits, the first Pooka born in thousands of years, could have been considered a grand prize indeed to those with a dark intent.

Bunnymund smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I _told_ you-”

“Because the golden ivy did so well,” Seraphina sniped back, brushing her hands on her skirt.

“That wasn’t my fault!”

Kozmo let out a surprised shriek, drawing both their attention from the old argument. Jack had caught the kit, and was dangling him over the dye river. Seraphina frowned as she took a step towards them, but Bunnymund held her back with a light touch to her shoulder and a shake of his head, grinning. “He’s fine.”

“Tell me that when you’re cleaning dye out of Kozmotis’s fur.”

They only had a moment’s warning before lightning flashed through the air. Jack let out a shout as he was blasted backwards, hair standing on end as he twitched in the grass. Kozmo landed on the edge of the river, fur still crackling with electricity.

“That’s my boy,” Seraphina announced proudly, returning to the orchids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, folks! After five months of plodding along, having no idea what I was doing, Fear and Loathing is done!
> 
> I want to offer thanks to everyone who bookmarked, kudos'd, commented, read, and cheered me on during this little misadventure. I hope y'all had as much fun as I did.


End file.
